


A Rescue From An Unexpected Source

by afteriwake



Series: Black Sheep [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 04:50:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4508436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock’s plan to capture Magnussen is in ruins, and just as he’s about to take desperate measures to salvage it he gets assistance from an unexpected source: his estranged twin brother Devon, whose handlers have their own plans for Magnussen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rescue From An Unexpected Source

**Author's Note:**

> So I had a lovely anon donor who wanted me to write whatever I felt like writing, and I decided to do more routine updates of my "The Art Of Love Is Largely The Art Of Persistence" WIP as well as start this series. I adored series three...except for "His Last Vow." There were bits of the episode I loved a lot and bits I hated a lot, and the encounter at Magnussen's home was a bit a hated so very very much. So when I saw [this Tumblr gifset](http://silent-fun.tumblr.com/post/77187702672/tom-hiddleston-as-the-other-holmes-brother) where Tom Hiddleston is the third Holmes Brother offhandedly mentioned in “His Last Vow” I decided I liked that ending _much_ better and wanted to fic it, and so this series was born. Eventually it'll be Sherlolly, with dashes of Mythea and Warstan and Holmes parents, but there will be a lot of focus on Sherlock and Devon in this series because I want it to be about _their_ less fractured brotherly relationship. But anyway, I hope you enjoy.

It had all gone so badly, so very badly. Damn it all, he hadn’t expected Magnussen to have all the blackmail in his head. If it had been in a room, if it had been physical, tangible evidence…he would have stood a chance. But no. He had one option left. As he stood there and watched Magnussen flick John’s cheek, he gripped the gun tighter, waiting for the right moment.

The whir of helicopter blades brought his attention into focus. “You will pay for this,” Magnussen said. “There is so very little your brother can do to save you from your fate. And I’ll stay here, keeping Mary company while you rot in a deep dark jail somewhere.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sherlock said, getting ready to raise the gun up and pull the trigger. The whirring grew louder. He waited to see Mycroft’s face staring at him from the window of the helicopter, disapproval on his face but he saw something else instead, something…no, some _one_ …he had never expected.

“Is that Mycroft, then?” Magnussen asked, lowering his hand.

“Not quite,” Sherlock said as the helicopter got closer.

“Then who?” Magnussen asked.

Sherlock stared at the face he had not expected to see ever again. The last time he had seen that face it had been 1999 and New Year’s Eve, and there had been an explosive row between Mycroft and the man leaning out of the helicopter on just what it meant to uphold the Holmes family name, and he’d left vowing to renounce being a Holmes, leaving them all behind: Mum, Dad, Mycroft…and his twin brother. “My other brother,” Sherlock said finally.

“Hello, brother mine!” Devon Holmes called out from the helicopter as it made its way onto the lawn. Once it was safe he got out and made his way to them. He had a rather smug look on his face, the same smug look he’d worn on his face so often when they were children and he’d done well in some athletic event. He walked up to Magnussen, who had a rather curious look on his face. Devon inclined his head towards him. “Magnussen.”

“Of all the details I’ve deduced about Sherlock Holmes and his meddling older brother, another sibling was not one of them,” he said.

“Yes, well, when you’ve got a unique set of skills and the entire world is digitized, let’s just say you can make just about anything disappear with a few keystrokes,” Devon said. “For example, it’s really quite easy to control the audio and visual surveillance feed on a home security system. And manipulating multiple offshore investments and rerouting them so that they’ll never find their way back home…that’s a piece of cake as well.”

“What are you talking about?” Magnussen asked flatly.

“Ever since my brother got shot in your bedroom suite I’ve had my eye on you,” Devon said, the smug look leaving his face in an instant. “There aren’t many people in the world I’m fond of, but Sherlock is one of them. And while he is a brilliant man I know him quite well. I anticipated he’d make a move like this, especially since I tapped our parents’ phones eons ago and knew he was going to be spending the holiday with them, as was our eldest brother.” Devon tilted his head. “You like having power. You like having control. But you’re an evil man and you picked the wrong person to try and intimidate. And now, I have control over you. You, Charles Augustus Magnussen, no longer exist. You have no digital fingerprint left in the world. By the time my cohorts are done you’ll have no physical trace left, either. And by the time my handlers are done? The world will cease to remember your name.” He gestured to the helicopter. “After you.”

Magnussen blanched. “You can’t do this.”

“I can, I have, and there’s nothing you can do to reverse it, either,” Devon said. “Now. Are you going to get on the helicopter willingly, or am I going to have to force you? And just let me tell you that forcing you onto the helicopter just might be the highlight of my evening.”

Magnussen looked over at Sherlock, who shrugged his shoulders slightly. “I would do as my brother says,” he said simply. “If I remember correctly, he mastered fifteen different types of martial arts by the time he was sixteen.”

“Very well,” Magnussen said quietly. Two other men in sharp suits got out of the helicopter and came to them, escorting Magnussen to it, leaving Sherlock, John and Devon alone.

“Sherlock…you really do know how to pick your enemies,” Devon said with a shake of his head and a small curling of the lip.

“How was I supposed to know he had a photographic memory and a mind palace to rival mine?” Sherlock said, throwing his hands in the air. “It was hard enough extracting information from Janine about him, and that was just on _normal_ things.” After a moment he crossed his arms. “I suppose I have you to thank for the anonymous texts in Belgium while I was after Moriarty?”

Devon nodded. “And the well-timed headshot to the sniper in Rio.”

“Mycroft tried to take credit for that, but his agent there was an ineffectual fop,” Sherlock said. “Were you responsible for the bolt hole in Moscow?”

“Not directly, but my handlers were,” he said. “I mean, as you’re the only person in the family who I’ve had any fond feelings for since the age of ten, I wanted to make sure you got out of it alive.”

“Thank you, Devon,” he said.

“It’s Elliot now,” he said with a grin. “Officially, at least. But I have so many aliases that it’s nice to hear it at least every once in a while.”

Sherlock nodded. “Thank you for this,” he said.

“Well, this particular rescue doesn’t come without strings,” Devon said. “Taking Magnussen out of the picture is going to make a big mess of things all over the world, so you may have to do some favors for my handlers.”

“I’d rather do favors for you than Mycroft,” he said, making a face. “At least I know you won’t throw me under the bus if things go south.”

“That is true,” he said. “Well, brother mine, I’ve got to be off before Mikey shows up. It’s best if we don’t butt heads.” He turned and gave Sherlock a wave. “Try not to get into any more trouble!”

Sherlock shook his head, watching his twin brother walk away. He and Devon had looked out for each other as best they could growing up, even if they didn’t always see eye to eye or share the same interests. He had been so heartbroken when Devon had left. His turning his back on the family had been a stab in the heart. That had felt like the deepest of deep betrayals. He had figured out around the time Moriarty had started to play their little game that he had some guardian angel looking over his shoulder, and as time had gone on he had narrowed it down to a handful of people. There was something quite pleasing to know that, even after all these years, his brother still cared.

He turned away and saw John staring at him, dumbfounded. After a moment he nodded back towards Magnussen’s sitting room. “We might as well get comfortable while we wait for Mycroft to show up. While we wait I’ll tell you all about the thrilling saga of my twin brother and his association with my family. I’m sure you’re quite curious.” He made his way back into Magnussen’s home as he heard the helicopter take off again, eager to just quickly put this entire evening behind him until it came time to begin repaying favors to his brother.


End file.
